


Carapace

by Daxii



Category: Free!
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, NaNoWriMo, Peer Pressure, Protective Sousuke, cop!Sousuke, harukat, pizza boy! Momo, side MakoRin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:24:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5125664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daxii/pseuds/Daxii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Momo's got in with the wrong crowd and he can't get out. His debts are spiraling, his courses are crashing, and the antics of his so called friends are getting further and further out of his comfort zone. </p><p>Sousuke is concerned when his regular pizza boy is clearly getting into trouble. He wants to help before it gets any worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my personal challenge for NanoWrimo 2015. I'm kinda doing it a little different in that I don't expect this to be 50k words (but I have other works to bump that up, so it's neither here nor there), but what I want to do is FINISH this within the month, something I've not been able to do with any story since Spring. 
> 
> This fic DOES contain OCs, because I didn't want to make any of the cast into these nasty thug boys we have as Momo's so-called friends. They all have their own personality, but very little development and even less description on their appearances. Please don't let their existence put you off.

 

 

 

The door is familiar. Momo comes here often. It's this guy's weekly routine, has been for _months_ at this point. A large meat feast pizza with extra cheese, right around 8pm on a Friday night. Momo raps twice, but the guy knows he's here. Probably recognises the sound of the moped at this point, and opens the door as soon as Momo pulls his hand away, grinning like an idiot, like Momo's absolutely made his day just with his very existence, and breathes this long sigh of relief.

 

"Hey," he greets, holding out his hand to accept the pizza, offering money with the other. "You doing all right?"

 

He always asks. It's just part of the routine, and Momo always gives him a nod.

 

But today he breaks their little agreement, carrying on, abandoning the script Momo's so used to. "Got anything planned for after work? The nights are getting warmer now, kids like you are always out and about."

 

Momo's not sure what to make of _kids like you_ , but he pushes that shouty voice to the back of his head and puts on the polite one. "Ah, think I'm hitting a club with some friends."

 

"Just a normal weekend? Oh to be free! I have work at 6 tomorrow."

 

"Eesh! What do you do to get you into that kind of hell?"

 

"I'm a police officer, but I'm still just a rookie. They give the newbies all the fun shifts."

 

"I bet. Well, enjoy your evening."

 

"You too, kid," the guy smiles, something Momo hasn't seen before. He usually looks pretty scary. Not aggressive by any means, but just this aura of _power_ Momo finds weirdly intimidating yet attractive.

 

He has two more pizzas to drop off in this neighbourhood, then it's back to the restaurant to pick up the next load. He doesn't get off till midnight and he's already tired. Maybe his mates will let him get away with just a pint and a round of shots tonight. He has an assignment to cram in this weekend and can't afford to miss the deadline. Not that he can afford the drinks either, but his friends don't seem to have much concept of that.

 

It's nice to finally be able to ride without a thick winter jacket. So much more movement in his arms in just his leather. The roads become quieter and quieter as the night goes on, and he has an almost clear run back to his little unit when midnight rolls around. He's almost, _almost_ , tempted to run the final red light, but there's a little niggle in his mind that he does _not_ want to be woken up in the morning in a cell by Meat Feast guy.

 

He gets into his flat, just a single room with a kitchenette on one wall, his bed on the other, and a tiny excuse for a bathroom. He likes to call it his en-suite. He throws a miserable glance to the stack of angry brown envelopes he's put on the kotatsu, and a much more desperate look to his abused, neglected laptop sitting there too, along with a mountain of overdue library books.

 

This is his mission for the weekend. There's not a lot he can do about his bills for now - his current system of paying the final demand when that comes through has been working out pretty well to keep him afloat. If you can call instant noodles for breakfast and scrounging a free pizza at work _afloat_ , but it could be worse, so there's that. Momo's even taken the initiative and set himself a budget for the evening, taking only cash with his bank card stashed safely in his locker at work.

 

He changes out of his comfortable jeans into something a little brighter and tighter, gets a fresh tee even though it'll be hidden under his jacket anyway. The Pizza Palace is just around the corner, just a minute on the moped to lock it up around back for the night. And then it's a trudge into town to find his group. Hopefully they've not been thrown out of anywhere yet.

 

He texts Shota, the calmest of the lot. The only one likely to give Momo their _actual_ location and not send him off on some wild goose chase around town for a _joke._ It's not so far from where he is now.

 

"Nice you could finally make it!" Endou calls from a corner of the bar area, the group taking over the large booth in the corner, perfect view of the dance floor. "We'll make you some room to sit if you go grab us a round!"

 

Momo looks at the table and sees they're all on pints of beer, which is a relief to his wallet. He knows all their preferences well enough by now to turn on his heel and place the orders, lest they suddenly decide they need some spirits in their system.

 

"You know I have work," Momo whines, wedging himself between Shota and Yukio - who always insists on sitting at the end, no matter how inconvenient it is for Momo to squeeze past him, ass in his face. "Good night?"

 

"Mm, Zen was trying his luck with some pretty blonde in the Brickworks earlier. But her girlfriend didn't wanna share. Shame. With two of them we could have all had a turn."

 

"Except Momo," Endou adds, and everyone turns to Momo with a smirk.

 

"R _iii_ ght, don't wanna be getting our dicks out with him around."

 

"Hey! I wouldn't - you know I don't -"

 

"He's just kidding," Shota offers, hooking his arm around Momo's neck to drag him in for a noogie. "Ignore them, they're drunk."

 

" _You're_ drunk," Momo informs him. Shota always does this _thing_ when he's had too much, choosing Momo as his cuddle buddy and just turning into a down right accidental _tease_.

 

"Mm, you're cute when I'm drunk," Shota ducks in to whisper, breath hot on his ear.

 

He doesn't let Momo go, keeping him trapped under his arm, slightly sweaty pits keeping Momo _easily_ in check. Shota's not really his type even if he _would_ follow through with his closeted bi/pan desires. He's too soft, too easy too manipulate. And then there's the fact that Momo likes them bigger, stronger, likes to feel all safe and small in their arms - not something that's easy to come by for a guy as tall as him.

 

"Shall well go out after these?" Zen suggests, the unofficial "leader" of their little gang. Big voice, big build, big attitude. "I need to get laid."

 

Momo's actually relieved that this seems to be the endgame tonight. He and Shota can hang out at the table of the next dive they find while everyone else tries their luck with the ladies, too distracted to come begging for more booze from Momo. Maybe he can even make an early escape.

 

"Well if that's gonna be the plan I might head home early. Stuff to do tomorrow."

 

"Don't leave me," Shota pouts.

 

"You should at least walk us there! We need a sober escort! And you've not even had any shots yet."

 

Who's Momo trying to kid? "Fine, fine. Why am I suddenly the responsible one?"

 

Because he's the one with the income.

 

He knows where they'll be heading. The Corner has become the neighbourhood hook-up club. Almost everyone there is looking for a one night stand and even Momo's been lucky in the past, but it's just not his thing. He can see Yukio and Zen grinding up against girls, everyone so drunk (and more?) he wonders how it can even be consensual.

 

Momo's days of tagging along and running after the girls are over. It's not an act he can keep up anymore. And it's not what he wanted in the first place. The lifestyle he's fallen into is the opposite of what he wants, and now he's too far in to get out.

 

Which is why there's nothing he can do when Endou starts mouthing off with the bouncer, except spring to his feet as back up. He lets his mouth run, following the script of experience, filling in all the gaps he knows he's expected to, lest he face the consequences of alleged disloyalty.

 

Zen finally steps in between them and the bouncer, taking control and silencing the crowd with a bellow. Shota's suddenly behind Momo, gripping his elbow and tugging him back, apparently sobered up enough from their quiet half hour to gain back some of his senses.

 

"Let's get out of here. We don't want to get caught in a fight."

 

"But Zen'll be _pissed_ ," Momo's worried. A telling off from a cop is honestly preferable to a beating from Zen when he snags them tomorrow.

 

"I'm still on bail from _last_ time. Let's go, _please,"_ he stares at him, eyes wavering and desperate and finally Momo caves.

 

They hit the street at a run, the fresh air hitting Momo and triggering the alcohol in his system. His pace is erratic and he weaves through the people on the street, Shota hot on his heels. There are shouts of annoyance and Momo ducks them into an alley to hide.

 

"There's cops all over, we can't run," he hisses. At least they're away now.

 

"We couldn't have gone the other way? I'm so far from home."

 

"Crash at my place, then," Momo grunts. "And I'm not taking the fall with Zen for this. I'd have stayed."

 

"I know, I know," Shota pants. "Come on, or they'll catch up."

 

He's tipsy enough that the thoughts of sharing the bed with Shota does absolutely nothing for him, and Shota obviously has no interest either, hugging the spare pillow and clinging to the edge of the bed, as if touching Momo will disease him. Momo chooses not to be offended. He's been in the same boat.

 

They awake pressed a little closer, but Momo says nothing, slipping out and using the bathroom, Shota rolling onto his front with a pained groan.

 

"I need to do my assignment. So just... don't throw up in my bed, kay?"

 

"Nrrg."

 

"Yeah, yeah I'll get you some water or something. I'm too good to you."

 

He tucks the cover around him and sets a glass on the side. The notes for his assignment are crumpled but intact, and he's surprised how easily he gets into the flow of writing, churning out three pages before his mind gets tired and he seeks nutrients (in the form of a Snickers, but it's _something_ ). Shota's still snoring in bed, but the quiet company is nice. A domestic familiarity to the whole thing that he subconsciously craves, _needs_ , to motivate himself, and he's surprisingly lonely when he leaves in the afternoon.

 

There's no word from Zen for a few days and only one - apparently accidental - message in their group chat from Yukio. It's not a good omen. It's Wednesday, right before Momo's shift is about to start, when they're all summoned to Endou's apartment.

 

* * *

 

Sousuke resists the urge to reach out to cup his pizza boy's jaw to get a better angle on that bruise. It's barely visible in the dim light of his porch, not something anyone who wasn't so used to fight wounds would notice, but Sousuke can't stop staring.

 

He stares long enough that the red head has to cough for his attention, pushing the pizza box a little closer to him, and Sousuke snaps to attention.

 

"Sorry, sorry. Bit... distracted," he takes the box and reaches behind him to his hallway table, picking up a few loose notes and coins. "This, for the pizza," he presses the exact amount into the guy's open hand. "And I know I don't usually tip, but..."

 

"You don't have to," he cuts him off, staring hard at Sousuke, obviously picking up on the worry, the pity, and shutting down his concern before he can say anything else.

 

"Right... well... have a nice weekend. Stay out of trouble."

 

The pizza boy casts him a smirk. "I'll try."

 


	2. Chapter 2

Momo stares at the wall behind his tutors head in a daze. He's so far behind with his reading he has absolutely _zero_ idea what they're talking about and his presence in the lecture is simultaneously astounding and _pointless_. Truth be told he wasn't actually intending on being here in the first place - today's mission being returning library books while he still had enough cash for the fine, and somehow managed to get swept up in chatter with classmates and deposited into this seat before he knew what was happening.

 

Maybe... maybe he should get those library books out again. And actually _read them_ this time.

 

But he's just... not _interested_ in the biology portion of his entomology major. He wants to see how beetles _live_ , study all their little habits, observe them in the wild or in the tank on his windowsill.

 

Diagrams of dissections are just not his thing.

 

The flock of students are finally released, spilling out into the courtyard of the animal sciences building and splitting off into their established groups. Some friends, some study partners, some even roommates. Momo trudges away on his own. He has work tonight anyway.

 

"Momo!" his boss yells as he steps in the back door.

 

"Goro!" Momo mocks, and Goro just smirks, clapping him on the shoulder.

 

"You're almost on time, I'm impressed!"

 

"Well," Momo puts on a face, hands behind his back. "I came straight from school. Not had dinner yet..."

 

Goro sighs. "Remind me why I keep you around?"

 

"Because I'm a lost soul kindred spirit and you love me?"

 

"There's a cold Hawaiian on the counter. Don't make me ram it down your throat."

 

"Yay," Momo trills.

 

Goro's a pushover, but Momo knows he's good at his job, so they've developed quite the unbalanced working relationship. And despite how Momo is still ten minutes late, he never has anything to do for a good half hour anyway. Pizzas gotta cook, man.

 

His shift is the usual adventure. Chugging along at full 30mph throttle on the moped, weaving through traffic to get to the front of the lights. The streets are always so different at night. It's like new paths open up that he'd never consider, there's always a new sign twinkling. And there's always that one familiar door.

 

The guy's still in his police uniform despite the later than usual hour, yawning and rubbing the back of his neck when he opens to door. Momo raises an eyebrow, and his silent question is answered.

 

"Overtime. Rowdy kids on the streets. At least I know you're occupied," he smiles, but there's this hint of worry still, and he's observing Momo very closely for someone clearly so tired. "What time do you usually get off?"

 

"'Bout midnight," Momo says honestly. Lying crosses his mind briefly, the instinctual distrust in the police drilled into him by Zen and Yukio nagging at him, but this guy... he feels safe.

 

"I'm Sousuke, by the way," he adds, looking at Momo in a way that makes him blush. The information feels so private - even just his _name_ \- for this loose relationship that they have.

 

"Momotarou. Momo," he shrugs and steps back. He needs to get away.

 

The light of Sousuke's hallway is far too tempting. It's that particular brand of security that feels like home. A certain aura of safety.

 

"See you next week," Sousuke says, soft smile as he acknowledges Momo's retreat with the opposite of offence. "And your face... it looks better without bruises. Keep it that way, hmm?"

 

"Right."

 

_____

 

Sousuke fights with the backs of his new shoes, the leather still a little too stiff to just slip his feet into, but it's a small price to pay for waterproofing. He picks up the lone left over slice of pizza from the night before for a quick munch on his was to work, holding it in his teeth as he starts the car and pulls out of his driveway.

 

It only serves to remind him of that little pizza boy... Momo. _Little_ being a bit of an understatement, but Sousuke's just gonna have to blame his own height on that. He's a couple of inches shorter at most, but his build just doesn't fit. He's all lean lines and sharp angles, maybe on the verge of _skinny_ if the folds in his clothes are to be believed. Like he needs a good gym subscription to bulk out. Heck, even a kettle-bell at home would put him a little more in proportion. It's comical in its own way. He doesn't expect much from his coordination. But he's kinda cute.

 

Sousuke chokes on the last bit of crust. He should _not_ be thinking like that.

 

He gets to the station, throwing his back and uniform-issue waterproof into his locker and reporting to the sergeants desk for his assignments. His mornings are all pretty much the same. He checks on the people who've been put into the cells over night, and he'll let them out when they've been offered something for breakfast and been checked over by the medic if they need to be.

 

Everyone has too much of a hangover to bother with anything more than a weary nod at his questions, but that's just fine with him. Maybe they'll think twice about getting so drunk and disorderly in the future.

 

His brain trails back to last week. The bruise on Momo's jaw. The fading blue around his eye. The flecks of scabs on his cheek from healing cuts. Yeah. Whoever did _that_ needs to be in one of these cells.

 

He gets his morning break, throwing bread in the toaster and setting the kettle to boil, and pulls out his colleague's cup as well. Rin skulks in a few minutes later, apparently already worn out from his paperwork stack.

 

"Thank you," he manages to squeak, sitting down and expecting Sousuke to bring his coffee and toast over to him. A hearty glug later and he's suddenly human again. "Do you want to see this video of Haru from last night? We got him this new toy, and he was making the most adorable noises trying to - "

 

"No thanks," Sousuke grunts. The last thing he wants in this mood is more cat videos.

 

"Are you still all right to look after him next month? I'm sure he'd _survive_ boarding... it's just..."

 

"It's fine." Haru's their _baby_ , after all, he just happens to hate Sousuke with a passion no feline should be capable of.

 

"Thanks. Makoto was getting worried after he..."

 

Yes. Makoto has every right to get worried after the damn thing tried to gauge off his nipple when he went round for dinner on Sunday night. Sousuke was 0.3 seconds from lynching the thing with its own tongue, until it rolled onto its back like the most innocent thing in the world and Makoto scooped him into his arms.

 

He really hopes those two don't have kids.

 

"Can I ask you something?" Sousuke says, rinsing off his plate. Rin nods. "There's this kid I know... sort of.. and I think he's in some kind of trouble? He's seemed really down the last few weeks. Had some cuts and bruises last week. And I don't really know what to do..."

 

Rin rests his chin in his hands, thinking. "So, you know him but not well. Yet you see him pretty regularly. What is he, your booty call?"

 

"Pizza boy," though it's kinda the same thing.

 

"Well have you... asked him? Is he nice? Do you talk?"

 

"Not really... seems a decent guy though. That's why I'm worried."

 

"Then _talk_ to him, Sousuke. There's no harm inviting him in for five minutes or something. He'll either think you're a creeper and make an escape, or you'll get to chat a little. The worst that can happen is he won't bring you pizza anymore."

 

He sets his plan into action the following Friday, getting more and more tempted each night to just bring their unscheduled date forwards a little. But he's gotta keep _some_ of it into routine, right?

 

He orders his pizza at 11, so it should be on one of Momo's finally delivery trips. He's _starving_ at this point and should probably have thrown some garlic bread on that order too. He spends the wait rehearsing his little story, in case Momo asks what's up with the late hour. How he's spent the evening catching up on paper work and lost track of time.

 

But by the time midnight rolls around, he's too nervous to be so hungry. There's the expected rap on the door and he gets up, turning on the hall light and stepping forwards. He's left the door unlocked in anticipation, so there's just the turn of a handle separating them.

 

Momo looks up at him, this warm smile on his face and despair clouding his eyes. Sousuke's heart sinks as the seconds pass, handing over money and taking the pizza. Momo hovers, like he's expecting something, one of their little exchanges, but the doubt quickly flashes over him and he starts to back off.

 

"Wait... Sorry... Momo... I've been thinking. You've seemed pretty down these last few weeks. And I know we don't know each other at all, really, but we've had this little routine going for months. I can just tell. Practically my job." Momo's eyebrow starts to raise, his smile faltering. "What I'm saying is... if you need to talk about anything, you know where I am. I can help."

 

The silences stretches out, the air thick with this twist in their little weekly thing. Suddenly everything seems important. Suddenly months worth of smiles and nods and compulsory "how are you"s all seem to matter in a way they never have before.

 

"I have another delivery," Momo finally replies, eyes down. "But... after?"

 

Sousuke smiles. "I'll save you a slice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In-the-works playlist for this fic, something I'm eventually gonna do for all my works: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLvE3CMepcYUceWhsz_YiMGU1nfDikjoy6
> 
> I'm so happy with the response this has had so far!


	3. Chapter 3

Momo finds himself breathing deeper, like he's struggling, when he sits back on his moped, clutching his hands around the handlebar until his knuckles turn white.

 

Just _what_ is he thinking?!

 

He's already booked up tonight. He's supposed to be at the bar with the guys by half twelve. And he was actually looking forward to it, kinda, with the promise of not-such a bad time. Zen's little way of making up for _last_ week. Yet Momo's still... reluctant. Whatever Sousuke wants - and he's not sure _what_ he wants - seems like the much more desirable option.

 

He makes his delivery on autopilot, barely noticing his customer and just about managing to put on his smile and issue a _thanks_ when he gets to keep the piddly amount of change as a tip. And then there's taking the bike back. He can probably walk back to Sousuke's within twenty minutes... hopefully that won't be too late. He doesn't want Sousuke thinking he's not coming back. If there's one thing Momo's good at, it's keeping his word. What time is this guy working tomorrow if he's playing host into the early hours?

 

It's a different experience, knocking on the door without a barrier of pizza, and Sousuke opens up quickly, looking nothing short of _relieved_.

 

"Hey," it's more awkward than ever, and he steps back, inviting Momo inside with body language alone, and Momo shuffles in. "Shoes," Sousuke instructs.

 

Momo's quick to obey, balancing with his arms out and Sousuke watching him like he's an idiot.

 

"Sorry... don't tend to bother in my flat," Momo says as an excuse, but Sousuke shakes his head.

 

"I'm just rather fond of my rug. Don't worry about it."

 

It's a sheepskin, so Momo's not surprised Sousuke doesn't want shoes on it. There's a big couch and an armchair piled with assorted junk, and a TV stand with no TV on the opposite wall, window on the wall on the right and fireplace to the left, pictures all over the mantel.

 

He spots a silver frame with a picture of two men, the taller's arm around the shorter red head's shoulders and in return he has an arm around his waist. Clearly a couple, both in matching navy blue suits. Sousuke catches him looking.

 

"My friends, Rin and Makoto, at their wedding last year. We all met at the gay club when we were in school. Shame neither of them wanted to share," Sousuke smiles, but his comment is sarcastic, such a genuine happiness for them in his tone.

 

And... Sousuke met them at a _gay club?_ He tries not to stare. This hulk of pride and masculinity, and he's _gay_. So open, not a hint of shame, and just... so... normal.

 

Sousuke clears his throat for attention, making Momo snap his head up from where his gaze has settled on his chest. "They gave me this at Christmas," he says, picking up a dark wooden frame with a black cat in the picture, curled in a ball with its head looking up at the camera. "Their cat, Haru. Bane of my life."

 

Momo snorts. "It's just a cat, what's wrong with it?"

 

"Sort of wants to kill me," Sousuke shrugs, casual as anything.

 

He gestures for Momo to take a seat, Sousuke going to hover at the door Momo assumes goes to the kitchen, probably about to be hospitable.

 

"Do you want a drink?" Sousuke asks, as Momo was expecting, and he nods. "Something soft?"

 

Momo snorts. "Sure."

 

Sousuke sits next to him, handing over a can of cola (sugar free, ugh). "Bet you've got plenty of time to get drunk later."

 

"That was... supposed to be the plan. You're getting preferential treatment."

 

"Oh, wow. What did I do to deserve that?"

 

Momo shrugs, suddenly shy.

 

"Maybe because I'm less likely to punch you in the face, huh?" Sousuke suggests, eyebrow slowly raising and he sits back.

 

"If I wanted to talk to the police about that, I'd have gone to the police," Momo sets his face hard. "And how did you know it was..."

 

"Just a guess. Relax. I just wanted to... talk."

 

Momo's wary. "'Bout what?"

 

"The usual. You in college?"

 

"Third year. Entomology."

 

"Bugs?" Sousuke asks, looking... impressed? "What do you want to do with that, then?"

 

"Dunno. I just like bugs. Stag beetles are my favourite."

 

"Interesting. Any other hobbies?"

 

"I used to be on the swim team, but... stuff got in the way."

 

"Work?"

 

"And... friends."

 

And there they are, back where Momo didn't really want them to be. Sousuke sighs. "Would you be more willing if I told you I was a cashier or something? Consider me off duty... I just want to know you're not in any trouble."

 

"Nothing I can't handle," Momo takes some of his drink, relaxing when Sousuke does the same. There's no pressure. It's just all in his head, this inane _fear_ of the police he's never had until this year. Sousuke's just being _nice._ "Sorry..."

 

Sousuke shakes his head in dismissal. "Tell me more about stag beetles."

 

Momo turns, then, checking Sousuke's face for any signs of mockery, but there's none. "I have one in a tank in my room. His name's Seikise, after my brother. He was so tiny when I found him. Right outside my building, like we were fated to be together! And he always comes out of his bark when I get home, now that he's out of hibernation, and I give him food, and he sits on my hand and we watch videos together. He's about 7cm long now! I've had him for over a year. We always share bananas when I buy them."

 

 

 

Sousuke blinks back his fascination as Momo's aggressive shell falls away as he talks, eyes brightening, smile up to his ears, hand gestures all over the place. He's so _happy._ Sousuke doesn't want him to stop. Honestly... he kinda lost interest when Momo began describing Seikise's digestive habits in detail, but he can't remember the last time he saw someone be so avidly passionate.

 

It's kind of adorable.

 

But then Momo cuts himself off with a splutter of apologies. "Sorry... sorry I always start rambling. It's... really late."

 

Sousuke shakes his head. "I've done so much overtime I have the weekend off, don't worry about it. Would you like a ride home?"

 

"Can't. Gotta go out."

 

He's so reluctant, voice crunching into this unnatural tenor that's the opposite of how he just was. Sousuke frowns at the unrest settling into the air. "Why not just skip. Tell them you need to study... that you're sick... that you're with another friend?"

 

Momo sighs, turning a pointed look at him. "You won't like it if I don't go."

 

He confirms Sousuke's suspicions. Just a kid who's worked his way in with the wrong crowd, and now he can't get out. The kind of minor street gang who border just on the cusp of the law. The sort Sousuke can't actually _do_ anything about if they're just boozing it up and walking in a pack formation, acting intimidating. Punishing their comrades with punches to the face, though... now _that's_ something he can make a file on.

 

But Momo's looking at him, silently pleading to just _not_. He's doing so well, trying so hard to trust Sousuke, who he doesn't really even know, and he'd be wrong to betray that. Especially at a point where he definitely won't win that trust back. But maybe... he can help Momo get out of it on his own accord?

 

"Let me take you there, then. Can't have you being any later."

 

"You really don't have to..."

 

"For all those times I should have tipped. Come on. Where we headed?"

 

Momo looks at his phone and winces. "Dragon's Den."

 

"Not your favourite?"

 

"It's not that... it just means Yukio's drunk out of his mind already," Momo sighs. "Thanks, though."

 

"Any time. Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the formatting kinda keeps bollucksing with double spaces and such. I've just started using novlr and not quite gotten down with this thing yet. 
> 
> BUT HEY! Look at these cuties talking!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my way of saying that SouMomo will be the death of me and I'm dragging as many of you as I can down with me.


End file.
